Wherever it Leads
by Niroveka
Summary: Written for MC contest: write a MiddleEarth fairtytale. Listening to a favortie story reminds Legolas of just how much a friend means to him, and how far he will go to protect him. NONSLASH


WHEREVER IT LEADS

Legolas Thranduilon leaned back against a marble pillar, crossing his arms casually. In the Hall of Fire, the gathering of elves and guests around the large fire was an impressive sight. The great marble pillars that lined the Hall reflected the light of the fire that burned all year long, even though the room was seldom used. The richly colored tapestries hung on the walls as they had for years, the hearth had remained unchanged...but Legolas felt a difference. Something was about to happen, something he feared would be egregious to all of Middle-Earth.

But tonight, all dread and apprehension was cast aside. A long night of excite-ment lay ahead: tonight, some of the best storytellers in Middle-Earth would tell tales of wonder, love and adventure.

Legolas had been here on such a night only a few times his entire life, yet each was more glorious than the first. He could understand the light behind the elves' eyes: tonight, would be a night to remember.

As the elves continued to file inside with delighted anticipation, Legolas noticed Strider enter somberly, his dark green garment betraying to the elf's eyes the wish to remain as unnoticed as possible. The Dunedan's grey-blue eyes scanned the company, seemingly searching for someone.

When their eyes met, recognition and joy flooded the man's face. Legolas merely smiled mischievously; so many years had passed...so many...

The elf waited expectantly, knowing his friend would do the work of pushing and shoving his way through the mass of attendees. Unfortunately, the moment Strider began to wind his way through, another elf seized an opportunity. They spoke in hushed whispers, and in the din of excited voices and the refrain of the music, Legolas could not even begin to guess what they were saying.

Strider nodded. When the messenger turned to show him the way, the Ranger signaled to his friend that he would meet him shortly. The prince nodded once; he would wait patiently.

While he waited however, a shadow grew in his mind. Something was not right...The elf stood upright, his experienced senses alerted, his body tense with expectation. Darkness seemed to steal over the entire Hall, though many did not seem to feel it; Master Elrond, and Gandalf however, seemed to know. Legolas saw them straighten uncomfortably in their seats by the fire, as if they were trying to shrug off the unwanted sense of evil.

The prince's brows narrowed in puzzlement. Something wasn't right. He turned his head, following Strider's path through the crowd. He searched for the man's aim, and found it in two small figures, one sitting on a stool with his back to a pillar, the other, standing beside him with something in his hand...

Legolas tensed still further, and he could not control his urge to move toward them, to demand of them what they were doing, where the evil was coming from...to warn Aragorn not to go anywhere near them...

Yet as quickly as it had sprung upon him, the feeling vanished within an instant...almost simultaneously when the standing halfling put his hand into his pocket. When he pulled it back out, there was nothing in his palm anymore.

Legolas sighed, relieved. Whatever that had been, it had sent uncommon chills down his spine. He watched, still warily, as his friend greeted the small ones, and entered a kindly conversation.

The elf's brows arched in astonishment...the Ranger seemed to be on friendly terms with the wee ones. He wondered...but then, it had been years since they had seen one another...Perhaps he had made new friends...

All thoughts were suddenly cut short by the sound of a voice rising above the rest in the Hall, and as soon as it began, all souls were caught up in its beauty. The elf spoke softly, his voice in tune with the harps and strings of the other minstrels...and his tale...one of beauty, love...and danger. Many of the listeners had heard it before, but it stirred them anew as it had for generations...the story of Thrandos, and his search for Laythorin.

Legolas closed his eyes and let his mind run free, as the words drifted over the crowd to him...calming him...moving him...

"Laythorin fair, warrior for all, had lived in Eressea for many life-ages. Having found his eternal peace, he walked the white shores by day, and gazed at the stars by night...Never had there been such peace and rest in his heart, even in all the ages he had lived on earth...finally, he had found everything he could have ever hoped for.

One day, he sat on the shore, gazing into the blue horizon. The sand was cool to the touch, the water lapped at his feet, and the wind blew in his fair hair. All was at rest...

Suddenly, a cry pierced his ears, a long, heart-wrenching cry of despair that stirred the very essence of his heart. He stood quickly, his eyes searching for the one from whence the cry came. It frightened him, never before had pain or suffering been felt here in the Havens, and never had he heard such a cry here or in his native land.

As he turned and looked down the shore, across the sand, he could see no one, there was no one there to account for the anguish he had heard displayed.

'Where are you?' his shouted out, his voice strangely echoing over the Sea.

'I am here,' the voice whispered, very close.

Laythorin spun around, anxious to help in any way he could. Nothing. No one. Apprehension filled his mind.

'I am here...' the voice came again. 'I am here with you, Laythorin.'

At the sound of his name, everything within him tensed. 'Who are you?'

'You have forgotten.' The voice was full of dismay and dejection. 'How could you have forgotten me? I am your brother, Thrandos. Do you not know me?'

'Thrandos?' Laythorin sank to his knees, confusion overwhelming him. 'Brother?' He did not remember.

'So it is true. You do forget...everything.'

'Forget?'

'I was part of you when you lived. Nothing could separate us. Nothing!'

Memories flooded back to him. "My brother! My little brother! I have forgotten...!'

'Yes!' Thrandos was hurt; the passion and rejected feelings could not be restrained. 'You forgot me, when you died!'

'Died?'

'You do not remember? I held you and begged you not to leave me...not to abandon me...alone...I could not bear to be alone...'

"A picture came to his mind...an elf, small, but strong, clasping the bleeding body of another, his silver tears flowing, caressing the cheek of the dying one...

'I died? No, it cannot be, I have lived here for an eternity...this is my home.'

"I was your home, Laythorin. But you could not resist them...the sound of the gulls. Whenever you heard them cry, I lost a little bit more of you. A little more of you slipped from my grasp.

'And then it happened: you found a way out. When we sparred together, and my knife slipped, goring you through the heart, you discovered your chance to have your dream fulfilled...And you have forgotten me...Now I am here all alone...alone for countless generations. I cannot bear it any longer...please, brother. Come back to me...give me some small comfort...I need you...I love you. Cormamin niuve tenna'ta eleu lle au'. "My heart shall weep until it sees thee again."

It was true. Laythorin could hardly believe it, but his heart told him it was true. His hand touched the scar; it was still there. He had died, leaving his young brother alone for thousands of years...and he was always so afraid of being left alone...

'How could I have done so?' His heart ached within him. 'I abandoned you, I left...'

'Come back to me, gwaedor. I need you. I need you!'

'This is my home now,' Laythorin stood, gazing back out into the mist beyond the Sea. 'I wanted it for so long...the gulls, they were calling me. The shores...'

'It was all you ever talked about,' his brother's voice was seething with emotion. 'Did I not matter anymore?'

'It was very selfish of me, Thrandos.' Laythorin felt a tear on his cheek, unbidden, but without restraint. 'Forgive me, brother. I never meant to hurt you.'

There was silence for a moment. Laythorin could hear his brother weeping.

'Is there not some way? Some way I can be with you again?'

'When your time comes, you will be with me again—'

'—No!' The voice pierced through his mind in agony. 'I cannot live here any more! I have been here too long without a companion, a friend, a brother...' The voice grew softer, weaker, in Laythorin's mind.

'Thrandos?' he called. He could not hear him anymore. 'Thrandos?'

Something had happened. There was no feeling anymore, no connection with his kin. 'Gwaedor?'

His heart sank. He had lost all hope of comforting his brother, still trapped on earth, with all of its hatred and despair. He could no longer feel him, and he feared that he would never again have the chance to ask his forgiveness...

He sat for hours, days, not eating, not sleeping, his heart perturbed and sorrowful, the pain of his brother's voice echoing throughout his mind. He could not forgive himself for what he had done: selfishly forgetting his brother's love, and abandoning him for his own pleasure. Laythorin could not imagine what had come over him that fateful day, to make him give up on life, life that was so precious.

Suddenly, a horn sounded from somewhere above him. He had heard it before: another passenger was crossing the Sea, to dwell forever here with those that had passed on before.

As he scanned the Sea before him, Laythorin beheld the Ship, the Ship that he had seen so many times since his own arrival. It made for the dock not far away; Laythorin ran to greet it, though his heart and mind were still sorrowful and downcast.

He leapt onto the wooden dock, and assisted the boatman with the walking plank. 'Suilad, Whinhold,' he greeted him. 'Who are your passengers, that I may announce them to the people?' As he spoke, his voice faltered, and he gazed past the elf's shoulder in astonishment.

Dark eyes gazed back at him out of a silk hood, and a smile crept onto the passenger's face. 'Mae govannen, brother. My prayers were answered, though in a strange and unusual way.'

Tears sprang to the fair elf's eyes. 'Thrandos?' he could not believe it.

'Aye, 'tis I, Laythorin.'

The brothers rushed to each other and embraced, their tears mingling, their souls uniting again after centuries apart.

'How? How did you...?'

'Die?' Thrandos' voice now held a tone of humor and gladness. 'All those years alone, I could not bear it any longer. My grief was more than I could stand...and my heart just...gave out. I wanted to be back with you so much, Laythorin, and my body could not keep my spirit back.'

'We are together now,' Laythorin breathed contentedly. 'The Valar be praised, we are together! And I am never letting you go again...'"

"The brothers now both found peace and joy together, and they lived happily...ever after."

Legolas opened his eyes as the music stopped and the minstrel returned to his seat by Master Elrond. There was a silence, as the audience sat in captivated wonder at the story of true love and the spirit that comes with it, the spirit that would stop at nothing to be united with the one you love.

It was his favorite, and he meant to keep that spirit of love within him, no matter where it would lead. The Silvan prince looked over at his mellon-nin, still standing by the halfings. 'Yes,' his heart whispered. 'Wherever it would lead.'


End file.
